ered Dave Darrin.

"Let's go up Main Street and see if we can't run into Tom and some of
the other fellows," proposed Dave.

"Good enough," Dick nodded. But they went a good many blocks without
encountering any of their own crowd.

"Wait; I want to step into this doorway and tie my shoe," said Dave.
Dick took a few steps ahead. Just at the corner he encountered a man
slinking around into Main Street.

"You here?" gasped Dick, then instantly he went down under a blow on his
chest.

"Dave!" gasped Prescott, rather badly winded.

"What?" demanded Darrin, racing up.

"Mr. Fits knocked me down and bolted around that corner," flashed Dick
Prescott.

CHAPTER XXII

HEN DUTCHER IS MODEST

For an instant Dave hesitated, reluctant to leave a comrade injured.

"Get after him!" ordered young Prescott, rising somewhat slowly. "Don't
let the fellow get out of sight."

At that direct command Dave Darrin darted around the corner, going fast
down the side street. A moment later Dick hove into sight, though some
distance to the rear of his now more agile chum.

As he ran Darrin felt like rubbing his eyes. By the aid of the street
lamps he could see fairly well down to the next corner. The fugitive
hadn't had time to cover all that distance in the few moments that he
had been out of view.

"Dave!" called Dick, though his voice at first wasn't very loud. Darrin
didn't hear, though a moment later he halted, glancing about him and
back at his chum. Prescott was beckoning.

"He has darted in somewhere on this block," muttered Dick, as his chum
reached him.

"Yes," Dave agreed; "but where?"

"That's too much for us to guess."

"What are we going to do about it?"

"I don't know," Dick confessed disappointedly. "I hate to see Mr. Fits
slip away from us like this, though."

"Well, he has done it, anyway," Dave declared. "I'm afraid there isn't
much that we can do now."

"We can go down to the next corner, and back on the other side," Dick
Prescott proposed. "Look back frequently, Dave, and, if you see Mr. Fits
dart out of any house or doorway, then yell to me, and we'll both turn
and race after the fellow."

"A nice sprinter you'll make, after that knock down blow on the chest,"
remarked Darrin dryly.

"Oh, I'm getting a little more wind back every minute," Dick declared
cheerily. "I could run, now, if I had to, and in two minutes from now
I'll be able to do a whole lot better. Come along. You do the turning